Shattered Sky Page 11

  “No,” Needletail explained, her eyes widening in apprehension. “She went to ThunderClan to live with her parents and her littermate.”

  Alderheart shook his head. “I’m sorry, but she hasn’t come to our camp.”

  As he spoke, the fur on the back of Needletail’s neck stood up and terror flashed into her eyes. She looked as if she had suddenly understood something, and it had driven her into the depths of fear.

  “What do you—” Alderheart began.

  “Well, if something happened to Dawnpelt, it was her own fault!” Needletail interrupted. “She should have been more careful.”

  Alderheart wanted to protest at Needletail’s harsh tone—then he realized that Raven still stood close by, watching and listening carefully. There was no way that Needletail could say what she truly meant. Every hair on his pelt prickled as he began to understand her fear.

  I’ve seen Needletail in a lot of different moods, but never terrified like this. What is going on here with the rogues?

  CHAPTER 11

  Violetpaw crouched under a bush at the edge of the old RiverClan camp, sharing a fish with Loki and Zelda. Each mouthful of the cold, slimy prey threatened to choke her, and it was an effort to swallow.

  “I really don’t like fish,” she muttered. “I’d give anything for a warm, juicy mouse!”

  “Me too,” Loki agreed. “Or a bowl of the pellets my housefolk used to give me.”

  Zelda’s only response was a sigh.

  The two surviving kittypets had changed since the battle, when Max had been killed. Their excitement and enthusiasm had drained away, and they seemed to realize that they would never be allowed to leave the Kin. Darktail no longer treated them with fake friendliness; he and the other rogues simply ignored them, and Violetpaw was their only friend.

  “Well,” she mewed, “Darktail says that the fish is ours now, just like the territory, so we all have to get used to it.”

  “Some of the rogues really like it,” Loki pointed out. “I saw Roach and Nettle fighting over a fish yesterday.”

  “Raven, too,” Zelda agreed. “And they all leave the nasty scraps and bones lying all over the camp! Don’t they realize they could attract scavengers?”

  Forcing down the last of the disgusting fish, Violetpaw sat up to clean her whiskers. On the far side of the camp Raven and Sleekwhisker were bringing the prisoners out of the bramble thicket that had once been the RiverClan nursery. Darktail stood waiting for them in the middle of the clearing.

  Almost all the rogues and remaining ShadowClan cats had moved over to RiverClan; Darktail had only left a small group to guard the ShadowClan territory. The camp here was crowded, and keeping the prisoners only made it worse.

  Why doesn’t Darktail just let these cats go? Violetpaw asked herself. What does he want with them?

  At sunrise the day before, every cat had realized that Berryheart and Beenose were nowhere to be found. Violetpaw assumed they had gone to ThunderClan, like Dawnpelt, but when she’d tried to ask Needletail about it, her friend had changed the subject.

  Why does Darktail let the ShadowClan cats leave, and yet he keeps these prisoners so close? It doesn’t make sense.

  The prisoners all looked skinny and half-starved, tottering up to Darktail on shaky paws.

  “It is time for you to recite the pledge of loyalty to the Kin,” Darktail meowed when they were standing in front of him. “Repeat after me: I swear to be a friend to the Kin . . .”

  Violetpaw felt a faint tingle of excitement as the prisoners hesitated, exchanging reluctant glances. Darktail had begun demanding the oath from them on the day after the battle, insisting that no cat would be fed unless they proved they were loyal to the Kin. At first the RiverClan warriors had held out—but as the days passed, first one and then another had given in, until Reedwhisker was the only one left who wouldn’t repeat the pledge of loyalty to Darktail, proudly refusing to betray his Clan in spite of his hunger and the many wounds he had taken in the battle.

  Will he be brave enough to defy Darktail again? she asked herself.

  But her small bubble of hope burst as Reedwhisker dipped his head and joined in the oath with his Clanmates, so that all four cats were reciting the words.

  He must be too hungry to fight anymore, she thought sadly.

  “What was that, Reedwhisker?” Darktail asked. “I didn’t quite hear you. Say it again, louder this time.”

  Looking deeply humiliated, his head and tail drooping, Reedwhisker raised his voice and repeated the words. Violetpaw thought that her heart would break for him.

  Once the pledge was finished, Darktail took up a couple of scrawny mice and tossed them at the prisoners, who were herded back into the thicket by Sleekwhisker and Raven.

  That’s hardly enough for one hungry cat, let alone four of them!

  Darktail nodded to the guards and turned away, a satisfied expression on his face.

  Thinking about the missing cats made Violetpaw want to go and find Needletail, to try once again to get some information out of her. She started to slip away when Darktail wasn’t looking, only to be called back by the rogue leader.

  “Violetpaw! Over here! I need to talk to you.”

  Even though Darktail’s voice was warm and friendly, something about it made every hair on Violetpaw’s pelt start to rise. When he uses that voice, that’s when he’s most dangerous.

  Obediently, she padded over to Darktail and halted a tail-length away from him. She kept her paws neatly together and curled her tail along her side, with her head bent submissively—she knew this was a pose that would please Darktail.

  “I’ve heard that some herbs are missing from the medicine-cat den,” Darktail began. “I’m afraid that one of our own cats has stolen them.”

  Violetpaw risked a glance at him and saw that though his face was calm, there was something malignant in the depths of his eyes.

  “If any cat is hoarding herbs for their own use,” Darktail continued smoothly, “then I need to know about it. After all, it’s not fair for one cat to keep all the herbs for themselves. They’re for every cat to share!” Darktail licked one paw and smoothed it over his ear. “I think sharing is very important, as I’m sure you know.”

  His last words confused Violetpaw. She had seen plenty of evidence that Darktail only shared when it suited his own needs. But she was relieved that she had a good answer to give him.

  “No cat stole the herbs or did anything wrong,” she assured him. “Alderheart and Mothwing just came to take Mothwing’s herbs, since she was the one who collected and stored them.”

  “Oh, well, yes, of course—their herbs,” Darktail meowed calmly. “That makes a lot of sense. But I have just one more question . . .”

  He paused, and Violetpaw felt her belly lurch with apprehension.

  “Which cat exactly told Mothwing and Alderheart that it was okay to come onto our territory to get the herbs?” Darktail asked.

  His voice was still friendly, but Violetpaw saw that his eyes were cold and hard. She realized that she was making—no, had already made a terrible mistake.

  I should have said I didn’t know anything about the herbs, she thought, trying to fight down panic. Maybe Darktail is just pretending not to be angry.

  “I—I’m not sure,” Violetpaw stammered. “I mean, no one cat said it was okay. We all just sort of . . . agreed.”

  Darktail said nothing, just went on staring at her until Violetpaw felt she would never be able to escape from the terrible power of his gaze.

  “Am I in trouble?” she asked, her voice no more than a husky whisper.

  “Not at all,” Darktail assured her. “You and I have an understanding, don’t we, Violetpaw? We were both kits that no cat wanted.”

  “But that’s not true!” Violetpaw began to protest. “The ShadowClan cats were very kind to me, and—”

  She broke off, trying not to shudder, as Darktail moved closer to her, so close that she could feel his breath riffling her whiske
rs.

  “I know that feeling well,” Darktail purred. “When one feels unwanted, one might do anything—anything at all—to hold on to the cats one cares about. Even lie to protect them. Isn’t that so, Violetpaw?”

  Violetpaw swallowed hard; she couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

  “I feel a special connection to you,” Darktail went on, “but that doesn’t mean that I couldn’t make your life very unpleasant if you go on lying to me.” When Violetpaw still didn’t speak, he added, “And it’s not just you that I could punish for your lie.”

  Violetpaw felt an icy claw of fear stab her to the heart. Why couldn’t I have kept my big mouth shut? she asked herself despairingly. If I’d told him I didn’t know, he’d have believed me.

  “Who exactly said this was okay?” Darktail persisted. “Was it Puddleshine? Or some other cat? Was it Needletail?”

  Violetpaw took a step back, but Darktail still held her with his intense gaze, as if he could see right into her mind and watch her memory of the encounter when Alderheart and Mothwing arrived in the RiverClan camp.

  “It was Needletail, wasn’t it?” Darktail meowed.

  “I—I don’t know . . . ,” Violetpaw mumbled. “I didn’t really see . . .”

  But it was far too late for that. Darktail bent his head closer still, until Violetpaw could smell his fishy breath.

  “I only want to know the truth,” he continued. “I won’t punish Needletail—why should I? She has always been loyal to me. She was one of the first cats to join us.”

  Violetpaw desperately wanted to believe him. And if I don’t tell him now, Puddleshine probably will. “Yes,” she whispered, still unsure that she was doing the right thing. “Needletail did say that they could take the herbs.”

  “Thank you.” Darktail’s eyes flashed with anger. His gaze raked the camp until he spotted Needletail, who was just emerging from the bushes with a mouse in her jaws. “Needletail!” he called.

  He began striding swiftly across the camp toward the silver-gray she-cat, who started at the sound of his voice and dropped the prey she was carrying.

  Violetpaw scurried after him. A wave of panic surged through her as Darktail grabbed Needletail roughly by her scruff and flung her to the ground.

  “What were you doing, giving away our herbs?” he yowled angrily. “Are you a spy? Are you loyal to the Kin or not? Are you like your friend, that useless mange-pelt Rain?”

  Needletail cowered, terrified, under the barrage of questions. She was clearly struggling to stay calm, but Darktail’s furious onslaught had unnerved her.

  “You said you wouldn’t punish her!” Violetpaw protested.

  “She is not being punished,” Darktail responded. “She is being shown where she’s gone wrong. . . . I am helping her.” Turning back to Needletail, he added, “If you’re not happy with the way I’m leading the Kin, you can leave if you want—just like Dawnpelt did.”

  Needletail’s eyes widened and she looked even more terrified. And realization struck Violetpaw like a flash of lightning.

  Could it be that Dawnpelt never made it to ThunderClan . . . because Darktail killed her?

  Violetpaw couldn’t hold back a shriek of horror. Instantly Darktail spun around, his eyes slitted and full of rage.

  “What, do you want to leave too?” he asked in a soft, menacing voice. “I don’t want any cats here who don’t want to be here.”

  “She wants to stay,” Needletail meowed, scrambling up to stand beside Violetpaw. “We both really, really want to stay.”

  Violetpaw had never been so scared in her life as when Darktail turned a questioning gaze on her. “I want to stay! I promise!” she assured him, her voice quavering.

  Darktail nodded. “That’s good. You have passed my test, Violetpaw. Because of course, I already knew all of this. Did you think Raven would have kept it from me?”

  Of course it was Raven! Violetpaw shuddered with horror at the thought that Darktail had been playing with her, as he might have played with a mouse before he killed it.

  “As for you,” Darktail went on to Needletail, “because of your betrayal, you must live with our RiverClan prisoners until you earn the right to be one of the Kin again. Roach! Nettle!”

  Darktail beckoned with his tail to the two rogues who sat nearest him, squabbling over the remains of a fish. They padded over, and at Darktail’s order grabbed Needletail by her shoulders, one on each side, and began hauling her toward the bramble thicket where the RiverClan prisoners were kept. Needletail struggled for a couple of heartbeats, then let them take her.

  “No!” Violetpaw mewed in anguish. Scared and confused, she just wanted to be with her friend. “I’ll go, too!”

  “No, no.” Darktail blocked her when she tried to follow, his voice smooth and friendly again. “You’ve proved yourself a good and loyal kit. Not like Needletail—and not like Puddleshine, who gave away herbs that rightfully belonged to his Kin.” He paused, then added, “I said I wouldn’t punish Needletail, and I’m not, but Puddleshine . . . now he does deserve punishment.”

  Darktail stalked off toward the medicine-cat den, and not knowing what else to do, Violetpaw followed close behind.

  Oh, StarClan . . . what have I done?

  CHAPTER 12

  “So what’s the problem?” Alderheart asked, emerging from the herb store to greet the gray tabby tom who had just appeared in the medicine cats’ den.

  Stormcloud let out a long sigh. “I’m not really sure,” he mewed. “I feel guilty for even being here, when so many warriors are badly wounded.”

  “Don’t say that,” Alderheart responded. “Any cat who feels unwell is entitled to come visit the medicine cats. Look what happened to Purdy. If he hadn’t decided to put up with his bellyache because he thought we were too busy, he might still be here telling stories to us.”

  Stormcloud nodded sadly. “I really miss Purdy.”

  He and Alderheart were alone in the den. Briarlight had dragged herself over to the fresh-kill pile with Jayfeather, while Leafpool was helping Mothwing and Willowshine check on the RiverClan cats who were still in poor shape after the battle. Even with five medicine cats in the camp, their resources were being stretched thin.

  There are simply too many cats here, he thought. Even if they were all healthy, they couldn’t possibly be comfortable. And some of the RiverClan cats are so seriously hurt that they need care from sunrise to sunrise.

  When RiverClan had first arrived, Squirrelflight had suggested using the abandoned Twoleg nest as an overflow camp.

  “We could transfer the worst of the injured over there,” she meowed, “and send Leafpool and Willowshine to live with them. There are herbs growing there, right beside the entrance.”

  Alderheart had thought that was a brilliant idea, but Rowanstar had protested.

  “There’s no need for that. This is just temporary. ShadowClan and RiverClan will be back in our own territories soon.”

  Bramblestar had thought for a few moments, then warily agreed with the ShadowClan leader. Alderheart suspected that he and Rowanstar believed that the Twoleg nest would be vulnerable if the rogues attacked.

  They could well be right, but that still leaves us with a camp that is full to bursting.

  “So, what’s the matter with you?” Alderheart repeated to Stormcloud. “Come on, spit it out.”

  Stormcloud drew one gray tabby paw over his ear. “I can’t sleep,” he confessed. “And sometimes my chest feels so tight that I can barely take a breath.”

  “Hmm . . . ,” Alderheart murmured. “Have you been upset about anything?”

  The tabby tom’s ears flicked forward in surprise. “Sure. What isn’t there to be upset about?” he demanded. “The camp is so crowded, we’re treading on each other’s tails; Rowanstar and Bramblestar snap at each other every chance they get, and adding Mistystar to the mix has only made it worse. And every cat is terrified that Darktail and his rogues will come for us next.”

  Alderheart
nodded. Stormcloud spoke the truth. Bramblestar was sending out even more patrols, but no cats could agree on the best way of defending themselves. They’d sent more patrols to WindClan, but their borders were still closed, with Onestar refusing even to talk to the other Clans.

  “I never had to put up with anything like this when I was a kittypet,” Stormcloud went on. “I joined ThunderClan because I believed in what the Clans stood for, but what if—”

  He broke off, giving his chest fur a few self-conscious licks.

  “What?” Alderheart asked.

  Stormcloud shook his head. “Nothing.”

  Alderheart was pretty sure he knew what the tabby tom had been about to say. What if there are no Clans soon? For the first time, Alderheart became aware that this was possible. If the rogues attack us and win, our whole way of life will just be . . . gone.

  “You should practice taking slow, deep breaths,” he told Stormcloud, pushing his fears aside to concentrate on the immediate problem. “Try to relax as much as you can. I’ll give you some tansy; that should help.”

  He padded back into the cleft to fetch tansy leaves from the herb store. While Stormcloud chewed them up, he added, “Tell Squirrelflight that I’ve excused you from patrols for today. You need to get some rest. Come and see me tonight, before you go to your nest, and I’ll give you a juniper berry.”

  “Thanks, Alderheart.” Stormcloud swiped his tongue around his jaws. “I feel better already.”

  “Let me know how it goes,” Alderheart meowed. “I’m sure everything will work out in the end.” I wish I really believed that, but I’m not sure I do.

  When Stormcloud was gone, Alderheart went back into the cleft to tidy the store and take stock of which herbs were running low. But he had barely begun when he heard yowls and running paw steps coming from the camp. He started up, his pads prickling with apprehension and his fur beginning to bristle.

  Is this the attack?

  Racing past the bramble screen into the clearing, Alderheart saw cats emerging from the thorn tunnel and recognized Dovewing, Tigerheart, and Molewhisker. At first, relief flooded through him, his shoulder fur lying flat again, but as he ran eagerly toward them, his belly cramped with a different kind of fear. There was no sign of Twigpaw.